Unexpected
by opal aline
Summary: Unhappy with where life has taken her, Bella seeks a second chance in Hollywood. A struggling single mother, will life get the better of her or take her to unexpected places.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: All things Twilight belong to Stephenie Meyer.**

**A/N: Thank you to my beta, JustineNicole and my pre-reader SherLynn.**

**Chapter 1: This Can't Be My Life**

**BPOV**

What is it about sitting alone on Christmas Eve that makes you think about your life?

Maybe it's the eerie silence that holiday nights seem to possess.

Maybe it's the record cold clearing my brain. Whatever it is, I know I don't want this to be my life anymore.

I don't want this stagnant feeling of going nowhere, of only existing and not really living. I want something better for my kids. I want something better for me. I feel it as certain as the floor beneath my feet: things need to change.

Spurred by my sudden insight, I reach for my phone, hoping for an answer on the other end.

There are three rings before I hear a timid hello.

"Ang, it's Bella. Can you do me a huge favor?"

"Of course(,)" she replies, like I knew she would. I have always been able to count on Angela.

"Can you come sit here with the kids for little bit?"

"What? Now?" she asks.

"Umm, yeah...if you could."

"Sure, give me ten minutes and I'll be over."

"Thanks, Ang."

As soon as I hang up the phone, I begin pacing, trying to sort out exactly what I want to do next.

**~xx~**

I urge my truck along the dark road on the edge of town, until I reach the parking lot of a small, dark building. The only sign that this is a business is the neon sign perched in the window.

Sure enough, Jake's Volkswagen Rabbit sits in the parking lot, along with four other cars.

I swing my ancient vehicle into a parking space and kill the engine.

Nerves flare in my stomach as I approach the front door. Once I walk in there is no turning back. Taking a steadying breath, I push the door open, revealing the smoke filled bar.

I've known for a while that Jake frequents this bar, and I'm fairly certain he's also cheating. Twelve years ago, when I got pregnant with Leah at eighteen, it would have bothered me, but now it barely feels like cheating. He hasn't slept with me since I got pregnant with Seth—that was four years ago.

Our marriage was never built on love. I had gotten pregnant in April of my senior year, and we were married by July under pressure from Charlie and Billy. Jake and I had been friends since we were twelve, so living together wasn't difficult, but there was always the feeling that something was lacking.

Jake was furious when he found out I was pregnant again; he accused me of doing it on purpose. I swore to him I had always taken my pill, but he never believed me. He had wanted me to end the pregnancy, but I couldn't do it. This little person deserved a chance to live, and if Jake didn't love him or her, I would love it twice as much to make up for it.

My Seth is the most loving little boy any mother could ask for, and it just kills me to see the way Jake almost completely ignores him.

When Leah was little, she and Jacob were buddies and she would follow her daddy everywhere, but now even that has faded. Everyday it feels like he can't wait to get out of the house and away from us.

This Christmas, though, he promised...he promised things would be different and he promised the kids.

He made all these big plans for the things they were going to do tonight. They were finally going to put together the train set from last Christmas. Leah and Seth were so excited—especially Seth. There was so much hope on his sweet little face.

Leah had been the first to give up. Three hours after Jacob should have been home from work, she stopped watching out the living room window and went down the hall to her bedroom, mumbling, "This is dumb." along the way.

Seth waited on that couch all night, convinced Jacob would be there any minute.

When he fell asleep with his train clutched in his hand, I carried him to his bed and then wrapped the Santa presents alone, not that that was something new. I don't think Jacob has helped me wrap gifts for ten years.

All of this and more runs through my mind as I walk into the bar.

"Where is he, Austin?" My question is directed at the pot-bellied bartender. He's been a fishing buddy to Charlie for years.

Austin jerks his head toward the back room. I should have known.

Adrenaline pumps through my blood, making my heart race and my palms sweat.

Pushing the door open slowly, I hear the telltale grunting of people having sex.

The low light doesn't show much; I can just make out the figures on a couch on the far side of the room.

I feel an odd sort of detachment seeing my husband's fingers digging into the fleshy ass of the woman astride him. Common sense says I should be seething with jealousy and anger, but there is simply a void of feeling as I stand mere feet from them.

Jacob hasn't felt like a husband in a long time, he feels like a roommate I have kids with. But I'm not here for me—I'm here for my kids. They deserve better than a father who neglects them, that would rather spend his time in a rundown bar, bouncing a tramp on his lap then at home with them. And I am definitely done making excuses for his absence.

Taking a step closer, I cross my arms over my chest and wait—wait for Jake to see me.

It isn't till the blonde astride him pulls her mouth from his that his eye catches mine.

He doesn't even have the decency to look shocked or sorry, instead he thrusts up into the still oblivious woman, returning my glare.

"I want a divorce," I finally say, bringing the attention of the blonde woman.

He doesn't answer, just thrusts again, emphasizing he doesn't care.

"We'll be with Charlie if you even care to see your kids for Christmas."

Fucker doesn't even stop screwing the blonde - just keeps going.

I turn my back on them and stride out through the bar.

"Sorry, Bella...I didn't -"

I cut Austin's words short by flashing him the bird on my way out the door. I don't even want to hear whatever lame-ass excuse he was going to give me.

My emotions are running just as high on the drive home, only now I'm angry.

I think of all the years I spent with Jake and, other than him giving me two wonderful kids, they feel like twelve wasted years.

**~xx~**

I'm home in no time and I just sit in my truck, staring at the house. Now what do I tell my kids? Despite his neglect, both of them still love their dad.

Angela is asleep on the couch when I step inside. It's no wonder seeing as it's two in the morning.

"Ang," I whisper, shaking her gently.

Her eyes open slowly and she slides to a seated position, rubbing her eyes.

"Is everything okay, Bella?"

I'm not sure how to answer her.

"Yeah, just...making some changes. I'll tell you more about it later. Thanks again for watching the kids."

"Anytime," she tells me, gathering her coat and heading out the door.

**~xx~**

I'm alone again in the living room, with nothing to do but take the next step.

I load the gifts into the back of my truck, followed by everything I'll need for making breakfast and Christmas dinner. Guess I'll need to call Billy and let him know there's been a change of plans.

I pack a couple days' worth of clothes in some duffle bags and then head to the kids' rooms to wake them up.

Leah gets up right away. When I tell her we are leaving, she doesn't even seem surprised.

"Dad isn't coming, is he?" she asks frankly.

"I don't know, baby," I tell her.

Seth is a little harder to wake, he whines and tries to pull the covers back over his head.

"Come on, honey, we're going to Grandpa's."

I lift him gently from his bed and slip his coat on over his pajamas.

"Momma, what about Santa?"

"He'll come to Grandpa's house, buddy."

I carry Seth to the truck, Leah following us with our bags of clothes.

I have Leah knock loudly on the door when we get to Charlie's as I stand behind her holding Seth.

Charlie answers the door on the third knock—I can tell he was sleeping, and I feel a bit bad about waking him.

"Bells? What's going on? Where's Jacob?"

"Let me get the kids in bed, Dad, and then we'll talk."

Charlie takes the bags from Leah and leads the way upstairs to my old room. The old double bed that used to occupy this room has been replaced with two single ones for when the kids stay over with my dad.

After they're settled, Dad follows me out to the truck and helps me bring in load after load of stuff. When the last of it is in, Charlie sits on the couch with a deep sigh. I know he's just waiting for me to start. He's always understood me—I don't like to be rushed into explaining myself.

"I'm leaving Jake, Dad."

In classic Charlie style, he nods his head and stays silent. It's never been his style to question my decisions. He's always silently supported me...very rarely adding his opinion.

"I'm tired of making excuses to the kids...to you...Billy for why he is always gone or late. I'm sick of the way he treats us...like we're not even there. I'm tired of doing everything alone—I might as well be alone if he's not going to contribute anything. We're barely making ends meet now with both of us working. He drinks most of his check, or maybe he spends it on that whore he's fucking."

Years of bottled frustration and disappointment flow out as I speak, tears as well.

Charlie rises from his seat and pulls me into his arms - a rare thing for him.

"I'm sorry, Bells, I didn't realize things were that bad."

He held me and let me cry my bitter, angry tears into his shoulder.

I never wanted to tell him. I never wanted him to see that I failed.

Even with no words, I knew he understood how I was feeling. Renee had left him when I was eleven, just disappeared one day when I was at school.

When Charlie got the divorce papers, her only statement had been that she was tired of doing "the dutiful wife and mom thing." I haven't heard from her in years. Last I knew, she was living with some musician in New York City.

"You and the kids stay as long as you need, Bells," he tells me once my crying quiets.

"Thanks, Dad. Sorry for waking you in the middle of the night."

"You can always call me anytime you need anything. You'll always be my little girl, Bells."

**~xx~**

It feels like five minutes since my head hit the pillow on the couch, and now Seth is shaking me awake, Leah standing behind him.

"Mom...Momma! Santa found us!" Seth enthuses as I crack my eyelids. Leah stands behind her brother; even though she no longer believes in Santa, she still looks excited.

"I'm up...I'm up, buddy," I tell him, easing up off the couch.

I try convincing Seth to eat breakfast first, but he insists on stockings before anything else.

Charlie comes downstairs just as Seth is dumping all his loot onto the floor, and he chuckles at Seth's squeals of glee when candy and toy cars rain from his stocking.

Leah is more sedate opening hers, taking out one thing at a time, setting earrings, bracelets, and her own goodies neatly around her.

Charlie takes his own stocking to his recliner and puts on a good show of oohing and aahing over the fishing lures and wool socks inside.

Seth bounces up from the floor and brings my stocking over to me.

"Open it, Momma," he says, excitedly shoving the quilted sock into my hands.

"What did you get, Momma?" he asks, ducking under my arms and climbing into my lap.

"Let's see here...a new book, some nail polish and salted caramels, my favorite. Santa is pretty cool.

"Your stuff is boring," he declares.

I pull him to me, plant a big kiss on his chubby cheek and listen to him howl in disgust.

"No kisses, Mom!"

His declaration only makes me want to kiss him more, which I do repeatedly before he squirms from my grasp.

Seth goes to retrieve the lone stocking still hanging at the fireplace - Jacob's.

"Doesn't Dad want his?" he asks, turning hurt, confused eyes in my direction.

"He isn't here, buddy."

"Will he be here later?"

"I'm not sure; maybe he'll come later when Popi comes," I tell him, hoping for the kids' sake I'm right.

**~xx~**

Billy comes over around midday and I can tell by his face he's confused and disappointed when I tell him Jacob isn't here.

"Popi! Where's Daddy?" Seth shouts as soon as he sees his grandfather.

Billy and I exchange a look and I just shrug. I don't have a clue where Jake is.

"I'm not sure, partner."

"Is Daddy lost?" Seth asks.

Billy and Charlie look as lost as I feel - I have no idea how to answer him.

"Let's finish opening presents," I say in hopes of distracting him.

For Seth it works, and he runs back to the tree to open more gifts.

Leah though is watching me like a hawk. I can tell she knows there is more going on than I'm saying.

**~xx~**

After all the gifts are opened, I work on dinner while Charlie and Billy are entertained by their grandchildren.

The evening passes quickly; dinner is typical, the kids don't want to eat anything resembling a vegetable. Billy and Charlie enthuse and say they should have dinner with us more often. In fact, the only thing different is the lack of Jake wolfing down his food and coming up with some excuse to leave, and honestly, it doesn't seem like anyone is missing him...not even Billy.

Billy and Jake have grown distant in the past several years. I know Billy is disappointed with the way Jacob treats us, especially Seth.

**~xx~**

It's well after the kids go up to bed that I sit down and talk with Billy. We've always had a good relationship, so I just come right out and tell him the truth.

He is genuinely shocked and hurt and even apologetic when I tell him about confronting Jacob.

I assure him no apology is needed and no matter what, I'll make sure he gets plenty of time with the kids.

I know I have an ally in Billy.


	2. Chapter 2

**DISCLAIMER: ALL THINGS TWILIGHT BELONG TO STEPHENIE MEYER.**

**A/N: Thanks so much to my beta, JustineNicole and pre-reader, SherLynn.**

**Chapter 2: New Beginning**

~five months later~

"Dad, this is a big gift."

"No arguing, Bella - there's no way your truck is going to make it to Los Angeles...I'm not sure it would make it to Seattle."

"I can never pay you back for this, though," I tell him.

"You're my little girl - I don't want to be paid back, I want you safe."

I know Charlie doesn't completely understand my reasons for leaving Forks, but he hasn't argued or tried to stop me.

"Fine, but we're still leaving tomorrow."

"I know, Bells; you've never been one to change your mind once it's made up."

I can't help but laugh. He's right...I am pretty stubborn.

**~xx~**

I'll admit, it's hard to say goodbye. I've lived in Forks since I was twelve years old.

It's even harder to say goodbye to Charlie.

We have always been close, and since Renee left when I was eleven, he was all I really had.

"You're sure Mrs. Cope has a job and a place ready for you?"

"Of course, Dad. I wouldn't move us all the way to Los Angeles with no job and no place to live. The Copes are practically family - we'll be in good hands."

Craig and Shelly Cope are the closest thing I have to an aunt and uncle.

Charlie was part of the United States Coast Guard from before I was born until my parent's divorce was final.

Mr. Cope worked with Charlie for years(,) and our families were always close. Mrs. Cope had been friends with Renee and was just as shocked as Charlie when she suddenly disappeared.

Mr. Cope had retired just a few years before my parents' divorce, and they moved here to Forks. After the divorce, Charlie left the Coast Guard. He wanted us to have a more stable life so he moved the two of us to here to be near his friends.

Charlie and I both owe them a lot; I'm not sure how we would have made it without their support.

Five years ago, they moved down to Los Angeles, the cold, wet weather getting to be too much for them.

"Call me when you stop for the night," Charlie says, hugging me one more time before I climb into the minivan.

Seth is wiping the tears from his eyes as he waves at Charlie through the window. I can see Leah in the rearview mirror—earbuds in, arms crossed over her chest.

She's still angry with me; she told me just this morning how much she hates me for taking her from all her friends.

I know most people, my father included, don't understand my reasons for leaving.

Maybe I'm a coward, but I can't bear the idea of staying here in Forks. Starting over here...seeing the curiosity or pity in people's eyes...I just can't do it, nor can I stand the thought of permanently moving back in with Charlie.

"D—dad didn't even come tell us goodbye," Seth says, a new wave of tears coursing down his face.

I wish I had something to say to my sweet boy. Jacob has distanced himself even further from the kids; he hasn't seen them in weeks.

Our divorce went through quickly, or so my lawyer said. Jacob contested nothing—he flat out said he didn't want the kids.

I was glad they were saved from hearing him say that; they'd have been crushed. It was hard enough for me to hear.

He gets to keep the house since it was passed down to him from his grandfather, and that was fine with me, I always hated that house.

"Are you sure the movers won't lose my toys?" Seth asks for what feels like the millionth time.

"I'm sure, buddy."

"Why didn't Dad come?" he asks.

"I'm not sure," is the only answer I have.

I wish I had some magical answer for him, one that wouldn't break his little heart any more then it already has been.

I smile at him in the rear view mirror as I hit the highway and we begin our long journey south.

**~xx~**

"Yes, Dad, we're fine," I say into the phone.

I'm exhausted - it's been a long three days in the car with the kids.

"The movers will bring our stuff the day after tomorrow."

I try not to yawn into the phone; I know Charlie is just concerned.

"Yeah, Dad, I'll be sure to call you tomorrow. Love you too. Night."

I collapse into bed with Seth, pulling my sleeping little man into my arms.

He's been my little cheerleader through everything, always positive and cheerful, even when he doesn't understand all the "why's" and "what for's."

Leah has been more of a challenge. She constantly reminds me of everything she left behind and how I've ruined her social life.

I have new respect for Charlie—dealing with a twelve year old is no picnic.

Two days – another two days – and at least Leah will be in her own room...it will be a relief.

**~xx~**

I'm nervous as I drive to the Cope's home. Even though we have always stayed in contact, I haven't seen them in years and I haven't been to their home since they moved down to L.A..

Their neighborhood is a bit nicer than I expected, and I worry my family won't really fit in with the neighbors, but it's likely they'll be in a good school.

Pulling up to the house brings a smile to my face. Craig and Shelly are sitting on the front step waving at us as soon as I stop the van.

"Come here, sweethearts," Shelly says as soon as we're out of the car.

We're swept into a crushing hug. "Bella, I've missed you so much," Shelly tells me.

I wrap my arms around her - it feels good to embrace her again.

We are ushered into the house where a huge dinner is awaiting us.

"Oh my gosh, you didn't need to go to all this trouble for us – it's your day off," I say looking at the abundance of food on the table.

"It's no trouble at all; I'm happy to do this for you."

Gratitude wells inside me—she has already made this huge step so much easier.

**~xx~**

It's not long after we eat that the moving van arrives.

Craig and Shelly show us to the apartment that's been built above the garage behind their house.

Seth is excited - he thinks it will be cool to live over a garage. Leah is less impressed, and I admit it's hard to swallow going from a three bedroom house to a two bedroom apartment.

It doesn't take the movers long to get our stuff in - other than the kids, there just flat plain wasn't much to show from my marriage to Jacob.

The two bedrooms are small and I let the kids have them - my bed will be the fold out sofa in the living room...not ideal, but it works.

Shelly has kindly filled our cupboards and refrigerator with food. I'm touched by her generosity.

"Thank you so much for this," I tell her, motioning at the packed cupboards.

"You've done so much for us already."

Shelly pulls to her.

"I wish I could do more for you, honey." Her voice is thick with emotion - I've really missed her, and it will be nice to be near a mother figure again.

"You've given us a place to live at a very reasonable price...helped me find a job...I can't thank you enough." I can't stop myself from choking up - all of this has really been harder than I've been willing to admit to anyone.

**~xx~**

"I like this room."

"I'm glad, buddy," I say as I tuck Seth's blanket in around him.

"Where's your room?" he asks.

"I don't have one."

His little brow furrows. "Why?"

"There's only two rooms and three people."

"You can share with me, Momma," he offers.

I plant a kiss on his sweet little face - he doesn't even protest.

"Thank you, baby, but I want you to have space to play with your toys."

His face still shows concern.

"Don't worry, I like the couch, but you know what? Would it be okay for me to hang my clothes in the closet with yours?"

"Sure, Momma."

He rewards me with a beautiful and sleepy smile.

"Sleep well, buddy."

"Night, Momma, I love you."

"I love you, Seth. Goodnight."

After I unpack a few boxes, I knock softly on Leah's door and wait for her reply.

I peek inside at her "Come in." to see her hanging posters on her wall.

"You ever going to forgive me?" I ask, sitting down on her bed.

"Yeah," she tells me quietly, hanging up a poster of some boy band.

"You know I do know what you're going through, sweetheart."

She gives me the no-one-understands-me look, which I choose to ignore.

"If you're open minded, I think you'll make some great new friends and enjoy your new school."

"I guess," she mumbles.

"Do you want some help?"

She just shrugs and goes back to her task.

I pick up the next poster in the stack, asking her where she wants it.

Between the two of us we make quick work of the stack of posters and the faces of teenage celebrities and kittens look down on us.

"Thanks, Mom," she says quietly as I make to leave the room.

"Anytime, sweetheart. Don't stay up to late, okay?"

She nods and I turn to go back out to the living room.

"I get why you left," she tells me quietly.

I turn back to face her, smiling as I watch her brushing the toe of her shoe over the carpet while tucking some stray hairs behind her ear—she definitely got that from me.

"Dad has turned into a real jerk."

As much as I agree with her, I don't say a word. He is their dad and I don't want my kids to ever think my dislike for their father extends to them.

"I...I just miss my friends," she confesses quietly. "What if no one likes me here?"

"Awww, sweetheart, everyone will like you - how could they help it?" I tell her, pulling her into my arms.

"You really think so?"

The constant swing back and forth from teen to little girl is sometimes mind boggling, but in this moment I'm glad to be able to provide my little girl some measure of comfort.

"I know so - you're kind and funny and creative. I think you'll carve out your own little niche and you'll find some nice friends that will be just right for you."

"Thanks, Mom," she says, squeezing me a little tighter.

"Anytime."

I feel pretty good after I leave her room. Hopefully this transition won't be too hard on any of us.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: ALL THINGS TWILIGHT BELONG TO STEPHENIE MEYER.**

**A/N: Thanks to my fabulous beta, JustineNicole and pre-reader, Sher Lynn.**

**~XXXX~**

**Chapter 3: A Splash of Reality**

"Just give your name at the gate. Andre is in charge of security over there, and I've let him know you're coming," Shelly tells me.

The twist of nerves tightens in my stomach—I haven't started a new job in seven years.

"Okay," I say, hoping I don't sound as nervous as I feel.

Shelly started her own business when she and Craig first moved to L.A.—a maid service. The company has become so reputable she now has several celebrity clients. She has set me up to start cleaning today for one of those clients, a particularly difficult actress. I didn't even want to know her name; it would just have made me more anxious.

I kiss the kids again. Until they get into a childcare program in a week, they will be staying with Shelly and Craig during the day while I work.

I drive to the address Shelly gave me, on an exclusive street in Malibu where the homes cling to a small strip of land between the road and the ocean. I park exactly where Shelly instructed me to—a wide spot off the road. Other cars are already there, other maids for the other houses, no doubt. I follow my instructions precisely. She said this lady is super picky, and to follow directions, no matter how silly.

Pressing the buzzer on the gate, I wait a few moments until I hear a deep voice sound from the speaker, asking my name. I give it and wait until the wrought iron gate blocking the drive slides to the side and a large man with a severe face is walking toward me.

"Ms. Swan?"

"Y—yes, sir," I stutter, partially from his intimidating nature, partially from surprise at being addressed by my maiden name again.

"Follow me," he tells me with a wave, turning back toward the house.

The structure looks very unassuming, like a concrete block, nothing that appears to require all of this security. Walking around the side of the house, we enter what looks like a large shed. Inside are several other people—two men and a woman. I'm introduced to the two men, Jason and Alex, and they barely take their eyes from the monitors in front of them. They appear to be watching security footage on nine different screens, and it makes my stomach clench tighter thinking how these men will be watching my every move today.

Andre introduces me to the woman, Mary. She gives me a curt nod, seeming wholly uninterested in talking. From there, I'm given the rundown of the daily schedule—no one is to enter the house before eight a.m., and everyone is to be out no later than four p.m.

Shelly sent me with a detailed description of exactly how every room is to be cleaned. The list is extensive, and I hope I can finish everything to the client's satisfaction. I would hate to cost the Copes more money.

When the clock hits eight, Andre leads the way into the house, Mary and I following.

The inside of the home is quite extraordinary, standing in complete contrast to the outside. Huge windows line the back of the house, overlooking the rolling surf of Malibu Beach. The view is crystal clear and breathtaking—and it will be my job to make sure it stays that way by keeping the glass pristine.

Andre shows me upstairs to the bedroom—my first room of the day. The furniture is oversized and pretentious, the bed almost resembling a throne to keep court, rather than a comfortable place to sleep. I'm left alone to start on my work, my instructions say I'm to pick up the clothes on the floor and bed.

Clothing is strewn all over the room—shoes, bras, skirts, and pantyhose flung over every possible surface. I'm to gather every article and leave it downstairs to be taken to the dry cleaner. It takes the better part of a half hour to gather the clothes. I can't believe an adult lives like this—my kids haven't made this big of a mess on their worst day.

After the clothes are picked up, I strip the bed and remake it, just as it says on the instructions. It takes me awhile, which I expect, considering the bed is massive and has more throw pillows than I've ever seen in my life.

At this point, I hope I never meet the client—I'm already inclined to think they're a brat, and would hate to find out it's one of my favorite singers or actresses. I finish the bed and move on to vacuuming, and dusting, and I try not to look too closely at any of the photos as I dust, but a few faces catch my eye. I try not to think about it as I get on with my job.

The last thing to do in the bedroom is clean the wall of windows that overlook the deck. It isn't until I'm actually cleaning the window that I notice someone is out on the dock—a naked someone.

I'm not sure if I should leave immediately, or just keep doing my job. Something Shelly told me comes to mind—she said no matter what I see or hear, I'm to keep working. I try to wrap my brain around the idea of a world where this is normal behavior. I suppose it will take some getting used to.

I shake my head as I finish up the windows—more power to her, I guess. She could use a tan on those big fake titties of hers.

The bathroom takes me forever—every towel has to be hung a certain way and each bath bead to be placed in the dish just so. Anytime I start feeling frustrated, I think of my kids. This is for them—for us—so we can build a new life.

When I finally finish upstairs I return to the main floor. There are no other bedrooms upstairs.

The living room doesn't take long—it would appear that not much living goes on here. The windows all along the back of the house take me a while, but it's not unpleasant—you really can't beat the view of the perfect sand and rolling waves.

After a brief lunch, I start on the kitchen. None of the actual cleaning is difficult, but some of the little things are irritating, like having to put exactly ten lemons in the bowl on the counter, and stacking the books on the coffee table alphabetically.

The first week flies by, between the job and normal stuff with the kids, it's amazing how fast each day goes. I'm so lucky that Shelly and Craig's schedules allow them to watch the kids. I miss them, and the work is far from glamorous, but it's a start and I'm so grateful.

**~xx~**

"Do you want me to walk up with you?"

Leah throws a horrified glance my way. "No, Mom, I'll figure it out."

"Are you sure? This school is a lot bigger than the one in La Push."

"I studied the map I got from orientation—I got it."

"Okay. Have a great day, sweetheart. I love you."

"Love you," she murmurs as she hops out of the van and joins the crowd of kids heading into the junior high school.

Junior high school…almost thirteen years old…How did that get here so quickly? I remember her first day of Kindergarten, little jet black pony tails standing off the side of her head, purple gingham dress with white bobby socks, and the most adorable gap-toothed grin on her round face. Now, as I watch her walk in, she looks so grown up. Her hair is the same jet black, but now it's long with beautiful waves that tumble around her shoulders and her figure is beginning to form more womanly curves. I know it won't be long until she catches some boy's eye.

A blasting car horn breaks me from my little reverie, and I put my van into gear and drive out of the semi-circle drive in front of the school.

I make my way to a different part of town—today is also Seth's first day of preschool. Even though I've never had the good fortune to be able to stay home with my kids, it's still hard to leave them every day. It seems especially difficult with Seth. I think mostly because I've had to leave him with strangers rather than with the familiar faces around Forks or La Push.

"Are you nervous, buddy?" I ask Seth as we walk to his class.

"No. It's an adventure, Mom. I'm a 'splorer."

I try not to chuckle at his enthusiasm. "I think you mean _explorer_, bud."

"Yeah, explorer," he repeats happily.

The teacher greets us at the door, telling us how happy she is to have Seth in her class. Seth is thrilled to have his very own cubby for his snack and sweater. I think he'll transition with no problem. I get one more kiss from my little man, and I'm back on the road, making a beeline for work. I really hope I'm not late.

Ten minutes late. Damn it. I hurry from the parking area to the gate, buzzing my way in. As soon as I enter the house, I know things aren't good—screams and shattering glass fill the house with sound. Mary is giving me dirty looks from the kitchen as I make my way upstairs, dreading to see what's waiting for me.

When I enter the bedroom, an unexpected scene awaits me. Miss Mallory is in her usual state of undress, though rather than being out of her deck sunning herself, she stands in the middle of the room, hands on her hips, eyes full of rage.

"You're late."

"I'm sorry, ma'am. I had to take my kids to school, then I hit traffic."

She holds up her hand to stop me from talking, a look of disgust on her face. "I don't want your pathetic excuses. I'm not paying for today—get this mess cleaned up now!"

I'm already disgusted with her daily mess and seeing the extra disaster she's made—picture frames broken amongst the usual clothes—I have no doubt this was a tantrum due to my tardiness.

Her attitude sparks my own temper—I refuse to let her treat me like a dog. I won't allow it again. I guess I can thank Jacob for forcing me to grow a backbone.

I grab a pile of clothes from the floor and toss them at her retreating back. "Fuck you. I quit."

Her stunned expression is her only answer—it's obvious she isn't used to having her staff speak to her like that.

I don't wait for her to respond, rather turn and walk quickly from the house before she regains her ability to speak.

Mary and Andre both look surprised to see me back downstairs, but I don't take the time to explain myself as I rush back out the door I entered just a few minutes ago.

Once back in my car, I allow myself a few tears, not because I will miss the job at all—I'm worried I've just fucked myself over for getting another job. Driving slowly back home, I dread telling Shelly what happened.

"Don't worry about it, honey, we'll find you something else."

I can't believe Shelly isn't upset at all. "Really? Isn't this going to cost you money?"

"Nothing that will hurt too much. Most people don't last as long with her as you did, though everyone else has been fired. Miss Mallory has been through seven housekeepers since I took her on as a client."

I don't know what to say. I thought for sure she would be disappointed, at least, so seeing she isn't leaves me at a loss.

"You thought I was going to be upset, didn't you?" she asked.

"Honestly, yes. I have been so worried I was going to cost you a ton of money, and you wouldn't want to trust me with any of your clients again."

"I already have another client in mind for you: single guy…very nice. I'm sure you've heard—"

"Don't want to know," I interrupt.

She grins at me and just shakes her head with a laugh. "You start tomorrow. He's a bit of a collector, but he doesn't want you touching his stuff. He's easygoing, no particular way he wants things done, however you want to do it is fine with him. You'll never hear this one complain."

"Thank you so much—I can never repay all of your generosity."

"Be happy. That's all the payback I want, sweetie."


	4. Chapter 4

**DISCLAIMER:ALL THINGS TWILIGHT BELONG TO STEPHENIE MEYER.**

**A/N: Thanks to my beta, JustineNicole and my pre-reader, SherLynn.**

**~XXXX~**

**Chapter 4: Another New Job**

This job couldn't be more different than the last one—no special or outlandish instructions. Clean the bathrooms and kitchen as I see fit, wash only the clothes in the laundry basket—in the washing machine, no dry cleaned underwear for this client!—and vacuum and straighten the living room. It isn't even an everyday thing, three times a week is all I need. Shelly gave me another client for the other two days. A sweet, older lady who mostly just wants someone to talk to. I'm so glad I'm able to keep my weekends free—another advantage with this client, no weekends. I love being able to have that time with my kids.

Even though this new client doesn't have a diva-worthy list of things for me to do, their security is unbelievable. There is no roadside parking this time. I'm to park at a certain grocery store parking lot in Santa Monica and Shelly has assured me the client's security will find me and drive me to the house.

At five minutes to eight, a black sedan pulls up next to my van, the morning sun glinting off tinted windows brightly.

The window on the sedan lowers and a handsome, dark-haired man in mirrored sun glasses looks in my direction.

"Are you Ms. Swan?" he asks.

"Depends. Are you Garrett?"

Shelly said a man named Garrett would be picking me up.

"Yes, ma'am."

"You got anything to prove that?" I ask him.

He chuckles softly and reaches into his coat, pulling out his wallet and flips it open, extending it across the gap between our vehicles.

His licenses confirms his identity and I grab my purse, raise my window and climb from my van.

"You can take shotgun," Garrett tells me, and I walk around the car.

"You're a smart one," Garrett says once I'm in the car and buckling my seatbelt. "That's the first time someone's asked me that."

"Cop's daughter...force of habit."

He nods at me with a grin and we're off.

I expect to be headed back out toward the beach, but, to my great surprise, we head toward the mountains.

We twist around, up the canyon roads, for half an hour before we turn down a driveway and pull up to a large metal gate.

Garrett pushes a code into the keypad at the gate and we drive in once it's open.

Again I'm surprised when we begin winding up the side of a hill, passing several houses on our way, each one tucked against the hill, surrounded by trees and barely visible from the road.

After a ten minute drive, we pull into a driveway leading up to one of the more modest houses we have passed.

The house is perched on a rise overlooking a gully—nothing flashy at all about its appearance. It reminds me of a modern take on an A-frame cabin.

This is far removed from the limelight of places like Hollywood and Malibu, so I figure I must be working for someone older, someone not interested in the party scene.

I follow Garrett from the car once he parks and am completely surprised when we walk right in the front door.

The house is light and open and simply decorated - I can see myself already enjoying the time I spend here.

"Well, I'll leave you to it. Here's my number—call when you're ready to leave."

I take the card Garrett holds out to me, my brows knit in confusion.

"You aren't staying?" I ask.

"You don't need my help, Ms. Swan," he says with a grin as he heads out the door.

I stand in disbelief for a moment. Am I really being trusted to be here with no supervision?

Mrs. Cope said this job is worlds different than the last one, but I really wasn't expecting this.

It takes me a few moments to get over the shock of being alone, but once I recover, I set to work immediately.

I head for the master bedroom first; Mrs. Cope already told me it's the only thing on the second floor.

The bedroom is equally open and simple as the downstairs, though this room has a more lived-in feel to it.

The bed is simple—no throne for this client, just a simple platform bed. Blankets and clothes both are tossed haphazardly in the middle of the bed and my instructions from Mrs. Cope say not to touch the bed. A few more clothes sit on the floor, but I'm only to scoop those up and toss them in the basket in the closet.

The closet is filled with t-shirts, jeans, baseball caps and tennis shoes - I don't see a single suit. Interesting…I quickly grab the laundry basket and take it with me.

The master bath is my next task. The cleaning supplies are right where Mrs. Cope said they would be, and I set to work tidying things up.

It only takes me about ten minutes to clean things, with no special instructions. No bath beads, no fancy towels folded a certain way. After the bathroom, I head back downstairs and throw the load of laundry into the washing machine. Once that's started, I find the vacuum in the hall closet and vacuum the living room and a guest room. It only takes a few minutes for me to clean the guest bath; I don't think this room has been used recently.

My next task is dusting the living room. It isn't a hard task - it's actually quite interesting. The room holds a large, off white U-shaped sofa facing a big flat-screen television. All around the television are bookshelves packed with books, and every now and then framed pictures are tucked between the neat rows of books.

I try not to really pay attention to the pictures, but it's difficult. One in particular catches my eye. It appears to be an old family picture judging from the clothes. A man with white blond hair holds a lovely woman close to him, her caramel waves falling around her shoulders.

Three tow-headed children stand in front of them, two girls and a boy, all with smiles on their faces. There is something about the picture that exudes domestic bliss and it makes me wonder about this family. Who are they? Where are they now? Are they as happy as they look in this picture?

All questions with no answers. I shake my head, clearing the questions from my mind and get back to work.

The last thing I dust is the shiny black grand piano that sits near the windows, overlooking the pool and the gully just beyond.

It looks like a peaceful place to sit and play, and it makes me wonder about the owner of this house.

After a quick trip to the laundry room to switch the clothes, I head into the kitchen to start cleaning. It's not very dirty; it doesn't appear they use the kitchen that much.

I wash up the few dishes in the sink and head out back to water the plants around the pool.

I have a quick lunch out by the pool—I don't want to make a mess in the house—and then I quickly fold the now dry clothing and set it neatly on the nightstand in the bedroom.

In just four short hours I'm finished with the house. I can't believe how easy this was. I have a feeling I'm going to enjoy working here.

**~xx~**

The weeks are flying by and we are settling into our new routine.

I take the kids to school every morning, Mrs. Cope picks up Seth in the early afternoon, and I get Leah later in the afternoon.

Tuesday and Thursday I work for Mrs. Banner - taking out trash, walking her dog and cleaning. She's a sweet old lady who likes to tell stories and always sends me home with some kind of goody for the kids.

Monday, Wednesday, and Friday I work for the mystery client. I'm certain I'm working for a guy, and he's actually left me a couple notes, thanking me for folding the laundry and doing such a great job on the house.

I was a bit taken aback when I received the first note from mystery client, but it was also nice to be appreciated.

**~xx~**

"No way, Jacob, that's not what we agreed to - you promised the kids you would come down and see them this weekend." If there was a way for me to reach through the phone and strangle that man, I would do it in a heartbeat. "I don't give a shit what you promised that skank - these are your kids too and for some unknown reason they want to see you."

He shuts me down like I'm talking about something completely unimportant...like our kids mean nothing to him.

"You're a fucking bastard!" I shout into the phone before slamming the receiver down. It's been months since he's seen the kids. It's like he doesn't even miss them. I'm so frustrated that when the phone rings again, I answer it with a sharp tone in my voice, only to feel chagrined when I hear the soft "Hello?" on the other end.

"I'm so sorry Shelly...just dealing with Jacob. He bailed on the kids again."

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," she tells me. Her voice has a slight quaver in it that I know has nothing to do with sympathizing with me.

"What's wrong, Shelly?"

"It's Craig," she whimpers and her voice cracks.

"What is it!? What's wrong with Craig?" I ask, feeling frantic.

"I think he's having another heart attack. The paramedics are here now. I'm not gonna be able to watch Seth for you, honey."

"Don't even worry about it. Is there anything I can do for you?" I ask, going to the living room window and pulling back the curtain to reveal an ambulance in the driveway below.

"Just keep an eye on the house, please. I'm not sure when I'll be home."

"Don't worry about a thing, Shelly. I'll keep an eye on your place; go be with Craig."

"Thank you, dear. I'll keep you updated," she tells me hurriedly before hanging up.

Not two minutes later, I hear little footsteps coming into the kitchen.

"What are you doing up, buddy? It's almost eleven o'clock."

"Momma, I don't-" he stops abruptly and throws up all over my feet.

The hits just keep on coming tonight.

After I get Seth cleaned up, I clean myself up, and mop the kitchen floor. Tomorrow is not going to be fun.

**~xx~**

"Thanks for driving slow," I say to Garrett from the back seat where Seth is snuggled against me.

"No problem, Bella."

Over the month I've been at this job, I convinced him Ms. Swan is completely unnecessary and he can simply call me Bella.

I'm a bit worried about having Seth with me today, but I can't miss work. I really need the money. There is definitely an advantage to having the house to myself while I work.

Once we're in the house, I get Seth settled on the couch and let him know there are some crackers on the kitchen counter if he feels hungry, but to make sure he eats in the kitchen and I head upstairs to get started on my regular work.

The bedroom is in the same state as always. I just laugh and shake my head, taking a few extra minutes to make the bed and fold the clothes laying on it. It's not in my job description, but seeing as I'm a bit later than normal today, plus with my little tag along, I figure it couldn't hurt.

After everything upstairs is clean, I gather up the laundry basket and head downstairs to toss the clothes in the laundry.

I'm halfway down the stairs when I hear Seth's voice. He is known to talk to himself on occasion, so I'm not really surprised, but when I hear a man's voice too, I hurry down the stairs.

Kneeling next to the couch is a man, his back to me, unruly light brown hair sticking up off his head, and my son is very happily feeding him saltine crackers as they both laugh.

"Hi Momma, this is my friend Edward," Seth tells me with a grin.

The man next to him stands and turns around, passing a hand through his wild hair and I nearly drop the laundry basket in my hands.

Standing in front of me is none other than Edward Cullen, the most recent James Bond and probably the most sought after Hollywood bachelor.

A little part of me wants to say, "Oh my God, you're Edward Cullen!" but that would be the lamest thing ever - he's fully aware of who he is.

"So sorry, Mr. Cullen...my normal sitter is unavailable," I tell him, surprised at how calm and collected I sound, despite the way I feel.

"Just Edward, please. Your son told me all about what happened with Mr. Cope; is he going to be alright?"

His face holds genuine concern, and I find that intriguing, for lack of a better word.

"Yeah, I think so. He had a stroke, but his condition is stable for now."

"Adjust your schedule however you need to—different times or different days, whatever works best for you, Ms. Swan," he tells me.

"Bella. Everyone calls me Bella."

The corner of his mouth pulls up in what has to be the cutest half grin ever.

"Bella," he says quietly and I swear my name has never sounded better.

Oh my God. I sound so lame. I think his sexy British accent is messing with my brain.

After an awkward pause, I hold up the laundry basket in my hands. "I'll just get to this if you're okay with me leaving Seth on the couch."

"No, no, that's fine. He's a cool kid."

I hurry to the laundry room and get the clothes into the wash. I'm unsure what I should do next. Normally I would clean the living room and kitchen, but now I'm not sure what's expected of me.

Knowing I can't stay hiding in the laundry room, I head back out to the living room.

Seth is no longer on the couch when I enter the room, he is now sitting at the breakfast bar, and I can see Edward in the kitchen, pulling things out of the refrigerator.

"What are you doing up, buddy?" I ask, walking up behind my son.

"Edward is gonna make me grilled cheese, Mom."

Oh boy, my son has just made himself right at home. The little booger.

"You don't need to make him food, Mr. Cullen, he's fine."

"Really, Edward is fine, and I don't mind. I'm making lunch for myself anyway. Would you like one?"

The idea of him making me lunch felt weird, but I didn't want to be rude.

"Sure, thank you."

I sit on the stool next to Seth and watch a situation I never expected to find myself in...Edward Cullen making me lunch.

"Seth tells me he has an older sister who's twelve. You don't look old enough to have a twelve-year-old," Edward says over his shoulder as he butters slices of bread.

"Oh, ummm, thank you. I was young when I had her."

"I'm the youngest too," he tells Seth with a wink. "I have two older sisters."

"Do they live here?" Seth asks.

"Shhh, that's none of your business," I warn him.

"It's okay," Edward says. "They both live in New York."

"What are their names?"

"Seth, that's enough," I warn.

Edward directs a warm smile in my direction. "He's fine, really."

"My sisters' names are Alice and Katherine," Edward says, directing his attention back to Seth.

"Leah is my sister - she's a butthead."

"Seth!" I scold, mortified at my child's bold assertion.

Edward is laughing as he slides sandwiches onto three plates.

"I thought that about my sisters often when I was younger...sometimes I still do."

I can't help but join in as Seth giggles. I don't remember the last time I saw him this happy.

Seth and Edward both dig into their food as only males can...they may have even chewed a couple times. I opt for smaller bites, which I come to regret. Edward Cullen is a gorgeous man and a gifted actor, but he is no cook...not even of grilled cheese.

After lunch, Edward goes upstairs and I toss the laundry into the dryer and vacuum the living room quickly. When that's finished, I clean up the kitchen and fold the now dry laundry.

Normally I would leave Edward's laundry in his room, but with him upstairs, I opt to leave it on the kitchen counter for him.

After making my call to Garrett, I gather our things to leave, Seth whining the whole time—he's taken a liking to Edward's house.

"Leaving already?"

Edward's voice behind me nearly makes me jump out of my skin. He came downstairs so quietly I didn't hear him.

"Yeah, finished for today."

"Ok," he says, looking at his feet, running his hand through his already messy hair. "Thanks for always folding the laundry, and thanks for having lunch with me...it was nice to have company."

"You're welcome, Mr...ummm, Edward."

"It was nice to meet you, Seth," Edward says, bending down and shaking Seth's hand. "I hope you'll come visit me again."

Garrett comes in just as Edward is standing back up.

"Finally met the boss, I see," he tells me with a chuckle.

I answer Garrett with a nod before turning my gaze to Edward.

"Thank you for lunch and not being upset about Seth."

"Of course, and I meant what I said - whatever schedule works for you is fine with me, okay?"

"Thank you," I tell him over my shoulder as Seth and I follow Garrett out the door.

As Garrett drives us down the canyon, I can't help but let my mind wander back to meeting Edward. He's not who I expected to live in a secluded home like that.

I don't know a lot about him other then he's the new James Bond and seems to be tabloid fodder. I see his face on the rag mag covers every time I go to the grocery store.

If somebody asked me a month ago what I thought about Edward Cullen, my answer would have been not much. Probably another spoiled, womanizing celebrity idiot.

Now that I've met him, I don't think he fits that description. The way he talked to Seth, the simple home, he seems like a truly unique person.

Even though I initially didn't want to know who I was working for, I'm really glad I met him. It's nice to have a face to put with the beautiful and simple house.


	5. Chapter 5

**DISCLAIMER: ALL THINGS TWILIGHT BELONG TO STEPHENIE MEYER.**

**A/N: Thank you to my beta, JustineNicole and my pre-reader, SherLynn.**

**~XXXX~**

"You are such a liar, Seth," I hear Leah accuse her brother loudly.

"I'm not! It's that guy right there!"

I hear the tears in Seth's voice. I better break this up before the real fighting starts.

"What's going on?" I ask, walking the short distance to Leah's room where all the noise is coming from.

"What are you doing in here, buddy? You know Leah doesn't like you in her room."

"I want to see Edward," he tells me.

"What are you talking about?"

"Edward. See, Mom," he says, pointing to the magazine in Leah's hands.

Sure enough, there is Edward's face staring at me from the cover of a teen magazine.

"Seth said he met Edward Cullen. As if!"

"I did, stupid head!" he yells, throwing a pillow at his sister.

"Get out! You are such a brat!" she yells, hurling her magazine after him as he leaves the room.

"That's enough. I wish you wouldn't fight with your brother, he's only four."

"Fine, whatever. He's still a liar, though."

"Actually he's not," I tell her, taking a seat on the corner of her bed.

"What!? You're really serious? When did that happen?" she asks, sitting up, eyes trained on me.

"Yes, Seth met him at my work the day he was sick. I work for Edward Cullen."

"No freaking way! That is so unfair. I want to go to work with you."

"Not gonna happen," I inform her.

She lets out a huge whine and actually pokes her lip out in a pout.

"But Mom, it would be so cool. All the kids at school will freak when I tell them."

"You will not be telling anyone, young lady," I scold her sternly.

"But Mom!" she whines.

"No buts, Leah, I'm serious. I will ground you for a hell of a long time and take away hanging out after school privileges if you talk about this with anyone."

She doesn't say anything, just stares at me with a glare that clearly says, "You suck, Mother."

"Do you hear me, Leah?"

"Fine," she says grumpily, falling back against the pillows on her bed.

I go back to washing the dishes with a new vigor. That's just what I need is Leah blabbing to her entire middle school and end up losing my job.

After the dishes are finished, I head to Seth's room to get him ready for bed.

He is playing quietly, but I can still see his sulky face is on. He doesn't like being called a liar.

"Come on, bud, P.J. time."

He slouches over to me and lets me help him into his pajamas.

"Go brush your teeth and use the bathroom."

He complies without a word as I set out his clothes for tomorrow.

When he returns, I help him into bed and read him his favorite dinosaur book.

"Leah is a butthead," he informs me as I lean in to kiss him goodnight.

"That's not a nice way to talk about your sister."

"I don't care; she said I lied," he grumps, his little brow creased with a frown.

"I know, bud, she just didn't know, and meeting Mr. Edward is kind of a big deal."

"Why?" he asks.

"Well, he's a movie star and that's a big deal to a lot of people."

"What does that mean?" he asks.

"What? Movie star?" Seth nods solemnly, waiting for me to answer. "The people that play in movies are called actors or movie stars."

He looks at me for a moment and I can see the little wheels in his head turning.

"So he plays dress up?" he asks seriously.

It takes everything in me to suppress my laughter.

"Yeah, something like that. He pretends to be different people and someone films him and they make it into a movie."

"Cool!" he says, his face lighting up.

"I want to do that when I get big. I'm gonna be a dinosaur."

"Okay, buddy, you'll be terrifying," I tell him with a laugh as I give him a kiss and tuck in his blankets.

Leah is less receptive to my good night wishes. She even turns her head from me when I try to kiss her goodnight.

All I can do is sigh and hope she doesn't stay mad for long.

"Goodnight, Leah. I love you."

Silence is all that meets my words.

I swear the closer she gets to thirteen the more I would rather face a bear than argue with her...I seriously think I would have better luck with the bear.

**~xx~**

I'm finding I really enjoy my days working at Edward's house. It's such a peaceful environment and the work really isn't that hard.

Since the day I brought Seth to work with me, I have seen Edward quite frequently.

I offered to move my work hours to a time he wasn't home, but he told me that wasn't necessary, just show up whenever is good for me.

At first it was strange to have him just randomly showing up - especially since he's usually near where I'm working and chats with me.

He's already asked about my kids and how long I've known Mrs. Cope.

I hint about my divorce but don't say too much and he has the decency to not press for more details.

I don't really ask him any questions. I don't want him to feel he's being interviewed in his own home. I'm sure he gets enough of that crap already.

When I hear the front door open today I'm not surprised. I've gotten used to Edward just popping in.

I'm in for a little bit of a surprise, though, when I walk out of the laundry room with a basket of fresh laundry. Edward is standing at the kitchen counter with a dark haired woman and a man with light brown hair.

The woman looks a fashion plate - not a single hair out of place, nails perfectly manicured, and designer clothes.

I shouldn't be surprised that this is the type of woman coming home with Edward. He is gorgeous and talented and sweet. I'm sure he has women flocking to him all the time.

Her presence bothers me and I'm not eve sure why, it's just unsettling.

"Hi, Bella," Edward greets as I make to head upstairs and out of sight. I nod quickly and start up the steps.

"Hey, wait, come meet everyone," he says.

I turn and head back toward the kitchen, plastering a smile on my face.

Before Edward can even say a word, the dark haired woman speaks up.

"I would love a salad and a water, dear."

I have no idea how to respond to her other than to stare wide-eyed first at her and then at Edward.

"You don't need to talk to her that way," Edward says. "Plus, making food isn't part of Bella's job."

She just looks at me like I'm a complete waste of space and I kinda wish the floor would open up and swallow me whole.

"Bella, this is Maria," he says looking directly at me. "She's my agent."

Oh! Agent! I can't help the smile that crosses my face.

I don't know why it matters to me, but it makes me happy he isn't dating someone that has every appearance of being a stuck up bitch.

"And this is my best friend, Riley," Edward tells me.

The guy at the counter tips his worn fedora in my direction and smiles slightly.

"Nice to meet you both," I say quietly.

Riley smiles again, but Maria doesn't even look up from her phone where she is texting furiously.

After a beat of awkward silence, I tell Edward I'm going to take the laundry upstairs and quickly retreat to the second floor.

I take as long as I can putting away clothes, but it still doesn't take me very long and unfortunately I've already cleaned upstairs so I can't even use that as an excuse to not return downstairs where I still need to clean.

After I kill as much time as I can, I slowly head back down the stairs.

Maria is nowhere to be seen as I walk toward the kitchen, just Edward and Riley talking as they lean on the counter.

Riley catches sight of me first and nudges Edward, inclining his head in my direction.

"Um, is it alright if I go ahead and run the vacuum?"

"Of course, Bella, do whatever you need to."

"Okay, I just didn't want to interrupt anything."

"You weren't, we were just...talking," he says hesitantly.

I turn to leave the room but Edward stops me by saying my name.

When I move to face him, he's closer than I expect, we are nearly face to face.

His eyes are greener than I've noticed before and I can see all the different colors that make up the stubble across his chin. From a distance his scruff looks brown, but up close, I can see there is blond and red sprinkled through it. I find myself swallowing more than normal and I'm having a bit of a challenge meeting his gaze.

"I'm sorry about earlier...with Maria. She's a good agent, but as a human being she can be a bit difficult at times."

"I think the word you mean is bitch. She's a bitch most of the time," Riley interjects. "You really need to find a new agent, mate."

Edward completely ignores Riley's comment, merely shaking his head at his friend.

"She gave me my start. It would feel disloyal to jump ship now that I'm getting bigger roles."

Riley just shakes his head with an exasperated look on his face]. He's obviously not in agreement with Edward.

"It's fine," I tell him. "I could have made her something, she just took me a bit by surprise."

"No, she was being rude, not to mention I don't even have the stuff for salad here."

"Really? You don't have lettuce?" I can't help but find the idea rather funny.

"I don't really cook, unless you count making toast and tea as cooking...and grilled cheese, you've had that."

I can't help but laugh at the memory of that grilled cheese, it really was terrible.

Mid-laugh it hits me how sad his statement is. He doesn't even eat at his own house.

"I...I could fix you something...sometime...if...if you want," I volunteer, the mom in me clearly taking over.

"Oh...I didn't mean to imply..." Edward starts before Riley cuts him off.

"Shut up, mate. If a lady offers to cook for you, you accept."

I'm not sure who blushes more, me or Edward. We might be tied in this one.

"It wouldn't be any trouble," I say, breaking the awkward silence.

What the hell am I saying? Why am I volunteering to work more? Apparently my brain has left the building and my mouth is taking over.

"Umm...well...okay. I would love that. I'll raise your pay."

"Oh...okay." I hadn't even thought about the pay honestly.

"I don't really have much in the way of supplies. I'll have Garrett take you shopping whenever you want to go, if you are really okay with this."

"Of course, it's really not a big deal."

"I will be more than grateful. Eating out gets old, especially when every meal ends up as a photograph."

I am unsure what to say to that. Other than his name, the fact he's British, and that he is filming movies about how James Bond became 007, I really don't know that much about him.

"Okay, well, we'll get out of your way," he says as he and Riley head up the stairs.

I'm still trying to wrap my brain around what just happened as I run the vacuum and then clean the kitchen. Now I have to figure out what I'm going to make...Oh boy, what have I gotten myself in to?

When Garrett picks me up, we agree that on Wednesday he will take me to a grocery store before he takes me to Edward's house.

I spend Tuesday evening after the kids are in bed combing through my cookbooks, looking for interesting things to make. I hope he likes simple food because I don't really know how to cook anything fancy.

I'm nervous as hell when Garrett picks me up Wednesday morning. It's a weird feeling knowing I will be spending someone else's money.

Garrett drives to a nearby grocery store. It's a bit more upscale than I'm used to.

It's pretty easy to find the things I need as Garrett and I make our way down the aisles.

"Is there anything Edward is allergic to, or just really hates?" I ask, hoping he knows.

"Not sure about allergies, but I think he'll eat just about anything."

"Okay, well hopefully I don't make anything that kills him."

"He's on set right now. I can text his bodyguard and ask, he would know," Garrett offers.

I wait for Garrett to send the text before picking out anything else. The reply is almost immediate and Garrett holds his phone up for me to see. The word _nope_ shows in the reply box.

"That makes things easier," I say with a grin and I continue my shopping.

After I get everything I think I'll need, we make our way to the checkout line.

"We'd better head to a store and get some pans and stuff. I doubt he has any," Garrett tells me as we load bags into the car.

"Okay...Is Edward alright with me spending that much?"

Garrett looks at me and actually laughs out loud.

"Edward's exact words were to take you to get whatever you need."

"Then let's go," I tell him, trying to sound more comfortable than I feel.

Garret drives to another location and when we walk inside, I'm pretty sure my mouth must drop open.

We must be in some kind of restaurant supply warehouse; everything around me definitely looks to be professional quality.

"I don't need this nice of stuff to cook with," I tell Garrett, feeling completely out of my element.

"We're here, it will work, right?"

"Well yeah, but..." I start but Garrett cuts me off.

"No buts. Come on, the day's a-wasting."

I follow him to get a cart. He's right, I needed to get my butt moving.

Once I pick up everything I think I could possibly use, assuming he has nothing, Garrett and I load stuff in the car and then we head back towards Edward's house.

"Can I ask something?" I ask Garrett as we pull through the security gate and wind our way to the house.

"Shoot."

"Why don't I ever see Edward's bodyguard?"

"Emmett, that's his bodyguard, doesn't need to guard him here unless you're planning on attacking him, Bella," he tells me with a wink.

I can feel my face heat at Garrett's implication.

"Make cookies. Emmett will appear. I swear the man has a nose like a bloodhound when it comes to baked goods."

Funny, Charlie is the same way...he always knows when I'm baking.

"I'm sure I can arrange that."

"It's only fair that you should meet him sometime, he knows everything about you," Garrett says.

"What?" I ask looking at Garrett to see if he's serious.

He's not laughing as he parks the car and gets out.

"It's his job to check out anyone who comes into Edward's house."

"Wow, does Edward really have that many people trying to get at him?"

"When he's outside the gates, you'd better believe it, from paparazzi to women and girls slipping him their number, to people hitting him up with scripts, it's pretty crazy at times."

"I had no idea. That must be awful," I say as we start carrying stuff into the house.

"He handles it pretty well, but as you can see he likes to spend the majority of his time here."

"So are you part of the security team?" I ask.

"I could be if it was necessary but no, I'm not. I just drive."

"Does Edward know everything Emmett finds?" I ask, wondering if Edward knows more about me them he has let on.

"No, Edward trusts Emmett to look into things and tell him if people are trustworthy or not."

"Oh," is all I say as we bring the last load into the house.

It's not like I have anything to hide, but I prefer people knowing things about me because I told them myself.

"You set here?" Garrett asks, looking at his phone.

"Yeah, I'm good."

"Awesome, I'm off to pick up the boss," he says, heading out the door.

Great, Edward is heading home already. I was kind of hoping I could get the house cleaned and food made and be gone before he got here. I don't want to see his face if he really hates what I make.

After I put away all the food, I run upstairs and straighten the bedroom and bathroom.

I take the laundry down and get it started before heading into the kitchen to get started on the food.

I'm halfway through making chicken enchiladas and Spanish rice when I hear the front door open. Edward is home.

"Wow, it smells great in here," he says as he jogs up the two steps from the front door to the living room and kitchen area.

"Thanks, it's not quite finished yet. It's got about another fifteen minutes in the oven...sorry. I didn't realize you would be home this early."

He throws himself down on the couch, letting out a huge sigh.

"No problem, I'm home early anyway. We couldn't finish the shoot in this wind."

I look out the picture windows and, sure enough, the wind is whipping the eucalyptus trees back and forth.

"Are you working on the James Bond movie now?"

"Not until after Christmas," he says as he pushes his shoes off and comes over to lean on the counter not far from where I'm stirring the pan of rice.

"What are you fixing?"

"Chicken enchiladas and Spanish rice and some apple chimichangas for dessert."

"That sounds wonderful, Bella. You're going to spoil me. I'll never want to let you go."

My stomach clenches at his words. I know he only means I will have a job for a while, but still, it's nice to hear.

He watches me as I finish fixing his food. It's a little nerve-wracking and very distracting.

After I dish up a plate of food for him, I head to the laundry room to get his clothes folded.

It only takes me about ten minutes to fold his clothes. When I head back to the kitchen, Edward is heaping another helping of food onto his plate.

"You're going to be too full for dessert," I tell him as I walk up to the counter and set down the laundry basket.

"This is so amazing, Bella, I can't stop eating it," he tells me, shoving a huge bite into his mouth.

"Do you still want dessert?"

He nods and mumbles something unintelligible around the bite he's chewing.

I move into the kitchen to begin on dessert while Edward continues to stuff food into his mouth.

When the apple chimichangas are finished, I roll them in cinnamon and sugar and slide them onto a plate and set it in front of Edward.

He digs in immediately and actually groans when that first bite touches his tongue. I feel like everything in me stops...breath, heart, brain...I am the cause of that sound.

I close my eyes soaking in the idea for just a moment before my brain clicks back on. What the hell am I doing? _He is younger than you, and he is your boss,_ I inwardly remind myself. Grabbing the clothes basket, I beat a hasty retreat upstairs to put his laundry away and gather my scattered wits.

Once I have everything put away, I return to the first floor to vacuum and clean the kitchen.

"I'm going to go jump in the shower if you're all finished upstairs."

"Yep, go for it."

I try not to watch him as he walks up the stairs but I fail miserably - I crane my neck to follow his form.

_I'm such an idiot,_ I tell myself as I start the vacuum up.

The living room isn't really a mess so it doesn't take me long to vacuum.

The kitchen takes a bit longer as there are dirty dishes, pots, and pans.

Edward comes downstairs before I'm finished cleaning. He heads to the living room and grabs a book off the shelf before lying down on the couch.

The last bit of cleaning takes me a little longer, mostly because I'm having a hard time keeping my eyes off Edward stretched out on the couch.

Once I'm finished, I send Garrett a quick text letting him know I'm ready to leave.

"You heading home now?" Edward asks as I head towards the door.

"Yes, everything is finished and I put the leftovers in the refrigerator. You can pop them in the microwave when you want more."

"Thanks a lot, Bella, that was the best meal I've had in a while," he tells me, laying down his book and rising from the couch, making his way in my direction.

"Sure, anytime."

To my complete shock, he walks right up to me and pulls me into a gentle hug.

I just stand there like a complete fool; I'm so surprised I can't even hug him back.

The fresh smell rolling off him makes me weak in the knees and the feel of his arms around my shoulders makes me warm from head to toe.

"Thanks again, Bella. I'll see you Friday." His breath tickles my neck as he speaks and I feel certain I will drop right there in his arms.

_You don't have a crush on your boss, you don't have a crush on your boss,_ I tell myself as he releases me from his embrace, but as soon as his eyes meet mine the words fly out of my head and I know I'm a goner.

Right or wrong, I feel my insides squirm. Yeah, I have a crush on my boss who is six years my junior.


End file.
